What I should have said
by kcatlin
Summary: My take on next weeks ep.


Disclaimer: Own nothing.

A/N: This is kind of corny but as DTD told me, corny is something we need now. I don't really think this is spoilerish because this is taken from the trailer CBS aired.

"I love you too, Montana. I have for a long time," is what I should have said. Instead, I sat there speechless like the dumbass I am.

Instead I sat there and let her break up with me. "I've fallen in love with you," she confessed, "That's why I can't see you anymore," she finished, then in stunned silence I watched her turn on her heel and walk out of my life.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I have to fuck up every good thing that's ever happened to me?

Tilting the long neck of the Tequila bottle to my lips, I feel the hot familiar liquid burn down my throat into my empty stomach.

I let my muddled brain, go over the past two years since she came into my life, for the thousandth time since she told me she loved me, and then dumped my sorry ass.

I know when I realized I fell in love with her, but I never told her. I should have. Jesus why didn't I tell her I loved her. I tilted the bottle to my lips, the comforting burn there again.

'You didn't tell her because you're a fuck up, dumbass. You couldn't save Louie. You couldn't help Aiden. You practically threw little Ruben in front of the bullet. You're lucky Lindsay got out when she had the chance, why she even thought you were worth the effort in the first place, I will never know. Oh well, at least she finally smartened up and got the hell out of dodge,' that voice in the back of my mind taunts me.

"But she loves me," I said aloud, feeling the hot tears come to my eyes again.

'Yeah and right after she said it, she dumped your worthless ass,' the voice taunted me again.

A loud rapping at the door made me jump. Hesitantly I stumble towards the door. Swinging it open, my heart soars when I see her standing there.

I immediately take her in my arms, smothering her with kisses. She kisses me back much to my relief, but her kisses taste different. I push it out of my mind, maybe it was the two bottles of Tequila that made them taste differently for me. Maybe it was the confession of love that made them taste differently.

She begins to take off my shirt, but I want to tell her I love her, find out why she left me. "Whoa, whoa, Montana. Slow down, baby."

"What? Who?," a city accent female voice says back. To my horror and shock I realize the female in my arms is Rikki.

Immediately I push her away, "I'm sorry," I slur out.

"It's okay," she says sullenly. "I should've stopped you."

Uncomfortably we stand in silence. Apparently her eyes take in the empty liquor bottles on my coffee table, because the next words out of her mouth are, "What happened?"

"Lindsay broke up with me," I admit. I felt like my throat was going to close up at the verbalization of it. I tried fighting back the tears again, but it didn't work this time either.

"Why?"

"Because she finally understands that she can do better than me, I guess," I force out, that verbalization feeling like a punch in the gut.

"Get your keys," she tells me.

I look at her, confused by what she means. She looks around seeing my keys on the table next to the door, and my jacket thrown haphazardly thrown to the floor. She picks them up, and throws my jacket at me, then my keys.

"I don't wanna go out," I protest. I just wanna wallow in my own self-pity. I'm good at that, that's what I do.

"Just put it on," she demands, and I'm too tired to fight, so I do it.

Dragging me towards the stairs, I stumble in my liquor induced state, but manage to stay vertical long enough to be dragged down the stairs and out to the front of our building. I watched as she hailed a cab, and then gestured for me to get in.

I must have blacked out for a minute, because now I am sitting outside of Lindsay's apartment, the cab driver yelling at me we are here.

I trudge up the steps to her apartment. What if she turns me away? What if she is with someone else? Sucking in a good breath of air to help clear my mind, I lift my hand to knock on her door. The aroma of her perfumes and cooking wafting from under the door.

The door swings open, and she looks as gorgeous as she always does. Her hair damp, her face make up free. She is wearing sweats and a tank top.

Before she says anything, "I've loved you for a long time, Lindsay Monroe. I just haven't been able to say it. I know I've been an idiot lately, not doing what I'm supposed to. You damn sure deserve someone better than me, but I'm yours. My heart is yours," I rush out.

She looks at me with tears in her eyes, I wanna grab her and show her how much I love her, but I can't. After another second or two of nothing, I turn to walk away. Then I feel her take my hand, and roughly pull me towards her. I almost stumble again, but then I land on top of her on the floor.

"Montana," I panic, "Oh god, baby, I'm so sorry," I say when I realize how hard I fell on her and feel her breathing ragged under me. Looking down at her, I realize she is laughing.

"It's about damn time, Messer," she growls between her laughs, a huge smile on her face. Then she maneuvers her legs so they are wrapped around me, holding me tightly against her.

I've never been one to hesitate when it comes to kissing someone, but with Montana, my Montana, I always wait for the signal that it is okay. Especially after we fight.

She removes my glasses, and traces her hand down my face, I'm trying to put my weight on my elbows and knees so I don't crush her, but her delicate tracing of my face makes me want to relax.

"Take me to bed, Danny," she says in such a sultry tone I almost lose it right then, "I need you to make love to me."

I groan in response, "With pleasure."


End file.
